


Mark Our Souls

by DarkAlpha67



Series: STORIES [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Angry Stiles, Confusion, F/M, Fear, Fear of Rejection, Fears are spoken, First polygamous relationship fic, Herbs that induce fear, Lydia knows everything, M/M, Mention of past deaths, Minor Lydia Martin/Scott McCall, Minor Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Quotes from C.S Lewis, Quotes from Show, Rejections, True Alpha Scott, mention of Allison - Freeform, soul mark, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: A Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski/Scott McCall soulmates fanfic.*A requested prompt.





	Mark Our Souls

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked for:
> 
> How about a Scott/Stiles/Lydia poly soulmates semi-AU? Like the kind of soulmates AU where people have the most meaningful words their soulmate/soulmates will ever say to them on their skin and the words have to be said by the right person in the right moment to activate, so it still takes a bit of time and guesswork for people to realize who their soulmates are.

The concept of Soul Mates was an ancient one.

The mystical phenomenon that two souls were destined for one another traced back to Ancient Ages.

Once, when life was a powerful organism, humans originally were a great being with four arms, four legs and two heads.

It was said, according to Aristophanes, that this great being had three genders: A man, woman and the ‘Androgynous’. Each gender had its own, unique set of genitalia while the ‘Androgynous’ had both.

The men were children of the sun.

The women were children of the earth.

The Androgynous were children of the moon.

According to history, there beings possessed great power. They possessed the strength that could crack the earth with a single step, the minds to deceive the cleverest of souls, equal to that of Athena, the Greek goddess of Wisdom.

The gods feared these creatures, yet they couldn’t destroy them for they feared the destruction of these humans would be a great loss for them, as humans were givers of great tributes.

And so, Zeus, the mighty god of Sky, developed a creative solution. By splitting the human in half, Zeus not only saved the eternal reign of the Olympian gods but increased the number of tributes doubly.

However, these new human’s lived a life of misery… and so Apollo, the god of Sun, sewn these human’s up, their navel being the only remnant hearkening back to their true form.

Each human had one set of genitalia… And with the mystical powers of Hestia, these humans were given one line, one single phrase that forever remind them of their other half.

And so, driven with the desire to be complete, the human race spend years upon years searching, longing for their missing piece.

Until… Modern society took over.

 

                                            ***M.O.S***

 

Stiles Stilinski was the personification of modern society.

A whiskey eyed, chocolate haired boy, Stiles was nothing extraordinary and he lived for the new age. The world of technology and acceptance. The world where new things were invented every decade, the world where he could go anywhere, be anyone....

He would love this world… if it weren’t for the people who still lived the Stone Age…

_“Souls Mates… what humans live for…”_

_“To find your other half…”_

_“I need to find him.”_

_“I need to find her.”_

_“You are what I’ve been missing all along.”_

Every day, every second, he had to sit through those words.

Every day, he would have to drive to school, and every minute, he’d catch a glimpse of paired humans… or worse, people searching…

Like literally.

As he drove his Jeep to school, Stiles watched as people walked across street, their heads turned from side to side. They’d be having conversations and their eyes would be widened in anticipation, both of them waiting for the other to say that exact line that had been marked on their skin since birth.

Words that grew as you grew up.

Words that stayed there forever and ever, taunting you, begging you…

He hated it.

Not the idea itself, he loved the idea that he had that perfect someone out there for him.

No, it was the concept that most people seem to have. That if you weren’t soul mates, you had no business being together.

And that once you found your Soul Mate, your life would be all sun flowers and roses… and that was bullshit!

Exhibit A: His mother and father. Soul Mates who met at the ripe age of 26 and 27 and who lived a short joyous life until death ruined everything.

His mom and dad were Stiles’ vision of the future and he thought, as a kid watching his mom and dad laugh and kiss that he would find a girl like that and that nothing would be able to keep them apart.

And then his mother started changing… and his dad started fading…

Three months after her diagnosis, as Stiles watched the coffin being lowered to the ground, taking away his mom from him forever, Stiles knew right then and there, that Soul Mates was a lie and a trick. Like ice-cream, it was good but it wasn’t forever.

\Subconsciously, Stiles rubbed against his mark, were it was inscribed into his chest. Stark dark against his pale skin, Stiles new the words like he knew his own name.

_“I need you. Not just now, but forever.”_

Great help… Couldn’t it have been someone’s name?

Shaking his head, Stiles focused as he turned into the school grounds. He looked around, trying to find his usual parking spot. Sometimes he had it, sometimes he didn’t.

It was a perfect distance from the school and it was close to the library, so win-win for him.

When he spotted the empty space, he sighed and closed his eyes in gratitude. He was already running a little late…

Just as he pulled in, he felt his cell vibrate.

Turning off the car, he pulled it out and checked to see he had a message. As he unlocked the screen, a group of smiling faces greets him. With eyes squinted from their over the top smiles, Stiles smiled himself at the picture of his Pack.

Accessing the message, another profile picture popped up. A girl with her Apple green eyes widened, her cherry pink lips pulled into the perfect shape of an ‘o’ and her perfect strawberry blonde hair bellowing behind her, a gorgeous trail of fiery red.

 

_(7:30 am) How far?_

_-L.M_

 

**_(7:30 am) Just outside._ **

**_S.S_ **

 

_(7:30 am) Meeting you in front._

_-L.M_

 

He smiled at his cell and hurriedly got out, pulling his backpack from the front passenger seat and locking the door. The air smelt fresh and Stiles felt his heart spike slightly at the idea of seeing her.

Lydia Martin…

The girl claimed his heart since the moment he laid eyes on her.

They weren’t soul mates, after meeting for the first time in kindergarten, Stiles had thought he had found the love of his life… He was wrong and so wrong.

Not only did she ignore him, she later made it clear in freshman year that she was a woman who could look after herself and that if he truly knew her, he’d know she didn’t do well with other’s expectations.

After two complicated years of friendship, he finally knew what she meant. It only took a werewolf bite and nearly dying for him to finally see that Lydia Martin was more than just the perfect girl and that only solidified his already growing feelings for her.

But sadly, it was in those two years that it was confirmed by her that she wasn’t his soul mate for their scripture didn’t match.

However, in those two years… thing got really complicated for him.

“Stiles!” An excited voice called.

He looked up and felt his heart swell and tighten at the puppy eyes that locked with his.

His Complicated with a capital ‘C’.

With a friendship that was going on 12 years, Stiles felt like an idiot for not seeing it and for not acknowledging it the moment they had their first sleep over.

“Hey, Scott.” He greeted, pulling his best friend into a hug.

Werewolves generated more heat than normal human beings and as a result, whenever Stiles touched Scott, it felt like the connecting area was on fire.

His chest and stomach burned and fluttered as Scott pulled him close and Stiles returned the embrace as normally as he knew how, yet he still had to force himself not to turn his head and bury it in Scott’s neck, to be fully cocooned by him.

He felt his treacherous heart stutter.

His eyes snapped open and he caught sight of strawberry blonde, making her way toward them.

Hastily pulling away, Stiles kept his eyes on Lydia as she and the rest of the McCall pack drew near. He felt Scott let him go and his body heat vanishing but Stiles kept his eyes on Lydia.

He felt sick sometimes, knowing what he knew…

What confused him more, was that she knew about it. With one narrowing of her eyes one day as he and Scott had stood together before a planning map, leaning over it and Stiles knew she had made the link.

“Hey,” she greeted with a smile but she didn’t hug him.

Liam, Hayden, Mason and Corey soon joined them.

“Did you find anything?” Mason asked him, his black eyes hungry for information.

Stiles gave him an incredulous look. “Of course. There was a call last night and same M.O. Family vanished one day only to return the next screaming bloody murder convinced that someone was after them. They all died last night, panic induced heart attack.

“Kidnapping doesn’t scream supernatural, Stiles.” Scott’s ever calm voice said.

Turning to him, Stiles frowned in bewilderment. “Did you miss the part where I said they were all so scared out of their minds that their hearts gave out?”

“I heard you but—“

Stiles opened his mouth to interject that he knew what he was talking about and like always it was in Scott’s best interest to listen to him when a warm hand fell on his arm, stopping him.

“We need more information, like an idea of what could cause something like this. Did they find any trace of a foreign substance? We can ask Ms McCall and then dig some more before we make a definitive conclusion.” Lydia’s suggested.

Scott glanced over to her and gave her a small smile which Stiles saw her returning before they both turned to him and raised their eyebrows.

“Fine.” He sighed out loud, ignoring the triumphant grin Scott gave him, “but I am telling you something isn’t right. Right guys?” He turned to Liam and Mason.

“Huh…” Liam sounded.

Mason opened his mouth only to close it a second later.

 

                                           ***M.O.S***

 

When he got home, he immediately locked himself him in his room, taking out his laptop and the copies of case files he took from his father. Though his dad knew about the McCall pack, he was still a little hesitant into giving Stiles confidential files but with his dad at work and not being able to answer any of his questions, he had to do what he had to do.

As daylight slowly dimmed and the sun gave way to the moon, Stiles felt an unfamiliar anxious sensation grip him.

He shook it off, knowing that if he was right (which he knew he was), that out there right now could be another family being scared to death.

As he printed up a list of herbs that could have caused this, he noticed the slight trembling of his hands. Staring down at his long fingers, he turned his right hand over, his fingers jolting and shivering as he does so.

He hadn’t had any coffee tonight, so this wasn’t some form of caffeine rush.

Just as his mind started racing, the familiar ringing of his cell pulled him back. With hope bubbling that this may be good new, he made his way to his bed and answered it.

“Was I right or was I right?”

A trembling voice answered. “Stiles… It’s Scott. Get to Deaton.”

She hung up and Stiles’ heart thundered in him, his breath lodged in his throat.

In four minutes, he was out of the house, apprehension coiling tightly in his stomach. He gripped his steering wheel firmly, his knuckles ash white as he sped to the clinic, whispering, “Please, please, please.”

Over and over and over again.

Stiles burst in through the double doors. “Scott!” He screamed.

Footsteps followed and Liam and Mason appeared before his eyes. His heart drummed against his ears as he hurried to the blonde. “Where is he?”

“This way.” Liam said shakily, spinning around.

Stiles took off after him, his eyes burning as it always did when he felt overwhelming levels of any particular emotion.

They came to a halt in a room in the back and Liam opened the door.

The sight that greeted him finally squeezed that tight knot in his stomach until it burst, releasing wave after wave of crippling fear.

Scott, his best friend, laid curled on the cold sterile floor. His body shook and whimpers were leaving his lips. His head was resting on Lydia’s lap, her fingers threaded through his hair as she softly hushed him.

“Scott…” Stiles croaked his name out, his feet speeding to the Alpha’s side.

His knees sunk to the floor beside him and teary green eyes met him, aching and pleading him to help her.

He reached out for Scott’s hand but the instant their fingers brushed, Scott ripped his hand away and shook his head. “No, no, no, no.”

Lydia hushed him once more, her fingers stroking his forehead.

“What happened?” Stiles asked her.

She shook her head and tears fell, landing on Scott. “Scott wanted to check the sight. He got—He got infected somehow.”

Something grasps the front of his shirt. Whiskey eyes snapped down to the clawed fist tearing at the material of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Sti-Stiles?”

Taking a risk, Stiles wrapped his fingers around the heated wrist just as terror-filled eyes locked with his.

“I didn’t mean-I didn’t mean…” Scott squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth baring as he let out a pain groan.

Scott turned his head and buried it in Lydia’s thighs, shaking and muttering the words. “I’m… monster… monster.”

“No, Scott.” Lydia said to him, her voice cracking at his name. “You’re not a monster. You are a hero and a good, kind, selfless person.”

Scott shook his head.

Stiles, needing to know something, looked at Lydia. “What is going on? Do you know what did this?”

“No.” She said, her eyes never leaving Scott. “They took his blood and then he freaked out. He won’t go back on the med bed. Deaton is looking into it.”

“Is there a chance at an antidote?” Stiles asked, his voice seeping with desperation.

She nodded, “yes. Liam said Deaton was working on something but…” she broke off, finally meeting his eyes. “They don’t know how long that will take.”

Suddenly, Scott stilled and turned his head to look up at them.

Stiles and Lydia both looked down to see tears leaking down the corners of his eyes. Stiles reached out and took Scott’s hand in his, curling his hand over his thumb.

“I might not make it.” Scott whispered to them.

“Shut up.” Stiles forced out.

“No, you don’t--- You were right, Stiles,” he said softly, his voice nothing louder than a faint breathe. “You’re always right and I don’t--- I never tell you that.”

“Scott, buddy, it’s fine, okay? Just save your energy.”

But Scott just spoke over him, “And we were always… we never went a day apart and I should have told you but Lydia and you… and you and Lydia are gonna be good together. Soul mates are meant to be together you know and I want you to be happy. You need to be happy.”

A muffled sob reached his ears and Stiles couldn’t do anything, stumped by the words Scott was speaking.

“Scott…” Lydia said, “Don’t…”

Red Alpha eyes flashed and dimmed only to reappear a second later. “Allison—they’re all gonna end up like Allison. And I’m dangerous, you know that.”

Claws sunk into the side of his hand and Stiles bit down on his lip to keep his scream in.

“I am a monster. I am. I am.”

“No, you’re not!” Lydia said fervently. “You’re a werewolf. Look at me Scott,” red eyes moved to her. “Listen to me. Not all monster do monstrous things. And while you may have claws and fangs, you are loved by everyone in your life.”

A loud, gut wrench scream erupted from Scott. His body arched off the floor. Both Stiles and Lydia instinctively reach for him, each hoping their touch and their voices will bring him from whatever pain and fear his mind was conjuring up.

“Scott!” Lydia shouted.

“Scottie, buddy, it’s okay. We’re right here, Scott.”

And then, knowing, somehow that there was only one thing he could say, one thing, that would pull his best friend away from the depths of his darkened mind.

“Scott,” He reached over with his free hand, “hey, look at me. There you go, right at me.” He leaned forward, making sure his eyes were locked solely on Scott. “Hear me when I tell you this… I love you. Okay. I am in love with you.”

Scott froze but Stiles, finding joy that his best friend was no longer withering and screaming in pain continued on, “You’re a werewolf. It’s who you are and I love that about you. I know you think that you can’t find someone to be with but I have been here for years, dude. No supernatural shit is taking me out of your life.” 4

A hand, soft and warm, wrapped around his neck, giving it a small, encouraging squeeze.

Stiles, using the firm pressure of Lydia’s grasp, continued in a strong, yet emotionally croaked voice. “Now you’re a werewolf.” He said in a forced light tone and felt a lone tear trail down his cheek that Scott followed with great fascination “But that will never change how I see you. Okay? Your teeth and claws do not define you in the eyes of your soul mate.”

He leaned toward his best friend, and his eyes flickered over to Lydia briefly.

Scott gasped and arched his body up as if to meet Stiles half way.

“You don’t have a soul, Scott.” He said, looking at Lydia to let her these words applied to her too. “You are a soul. You have a body. And one day, someone is gonna fall for what they should be falling for. Your _soul_.”

A broken sob tore from Lydia and Stiles felt her fingers dig into his neck.

He looked up at her. Her cheeks were flushed and wet from tears, her lips are bitten raw bit still, she gave him a soft, understanding smile.

Stiles felt something burn within in, a painful sensation right in the center of his chest. Lydia’s eyes flickered down to her arm.

She gasped aloud. “Scott?”

Stiles’ head whipped down. His heart stopped.

Scott laid motionless between them, his eyes closed and his mouth parted. With his mind screaming in fear, Stiles’ let go of his best friend’s slacked hand, pressing his fingers against his neck, right on the pulse point.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Relief flooded through him, overshadowing the pain and worry and the fear momentarily. He closed his eyes and sighed, inhaling with each pulsing beat he felt against the pads of his fingers.

“He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay.” He whispered under his breathe. “He’s okay…”

Lydia squeezed the back of his neck and he felt a slight pressure, tugging him forward. He fell toward her, his forehead dropping on her shoulder. Her breathe fanned against his cheek and she leaned her head down against his.

“He’ll be okay.” She said for them both.

 

                                                  ***M.O.S***

 

Hours later and Scott was still unconscious. Deaton came in not long after he passed out, telling them in his steady, calm voice that this was a good sign. Scott’s heart beat being under control was good because of something about having to be wake for him to be scared…

Stiles wasn’t paying much attention to the explanation. All he could focus on was Scott’s beating heart against his palm where it rested on his chest, all he could focus on was the soft, faint inhalation and exhalation he strained to hear.

He knew, somewhere in the back of his subconscious, that his mind wasn’t needed. He just had to be here for Scott and Lydia.

Lydia…

The strawberry blonde had been staring down, transfixed, at Scott and Stiles. They had moved Scott to a cot Deaton had brought and had taking a seat on Scott’s right side and he was grateful for it, for it was Lydia’s constant presence that ensured he didn’t lose his fucking mind while sitting there waiting.

With their friend’s hand clasped in hers, she took to pressing her fingers against his wrist every now and then, her head rested on Stiles shoulder.

“It’s done!” A body came crashing in.

Lydia’s head lifted up and Stiles looked over to the room’s door, at a disheveled Liam, his hair standing up at ends, his eyes widened and his chest heaving.

“Deaton’s getting it ready, but it’s done.” Liam repeated to them.

He felt it the instant the heavy weight on his chest lifted. Lydia’s let loose a wet laugh. She turned around and threw her free arm around Stiles. He returned the embrace, a wide joyous smile spreading across his face. Tear sprang to his eyes and he let them fall, to happy and dizzy with relief to care.

Sure enough, Deaton walked in a minute later, a kind smile on his face and a syringe in hand.

Stiles and Lydia both stood up, their hands finding the other and their fingers interlacing as they waited with bated breath, watching as the needle pierced Scott’s arm, as the oddly green colored liquid got injected into his system.

“All right.” Said Deaton as he eased the needle out. He looked up at them, his eyes holding understanding and sympathy. It was a look Stiles was use to—the look of someone who knew something other’s didn’t. “This should only take a few minutes and then Scott’ should wake up, given his werewolf nature. I will be calling Ms McCall and let her know we have an antidote.”

“Shit,” Stiles said. “I forgot to tell Melissa—“

“I did.” Lydia’s sweet voice interjected. “She trusted Scott was in good hands.”

It was a vague answer and Stiles was sure there was more to it but he didn’t care because Scott was okay.

His once tight and tensed up limbs eased until he was left feeling numb. Like dead weight, he dropped onto his vacant chair and he gripped tighter onto Lydia’s hand with his last remaining energy.

She thanked Deaton and took her seat too. Reaching out, Lydia grasped on Scott’s hands, slipping her fingers through his as her thumb stroked his hand.

As Stiles looked at his two friends’ hands and then glanced at his and Lydia’s, he felt a warm, peaceful sensation seep through him, filling him little by little.

He felt… _whole_.

Maybe it was his feelings messing with his mind. It happened on the rare occasion Stiles would find himself alone, completely alone, with Scott and Lydia. He’d find himself looking at them… The two people whom he loved and who had no idea of the internal war he was battling.

It was fucking confusing, it had always been. Regardless of how much he told himself that it was an awkward blend of current crush meets past love of your life, he always felt like there was more to it and during those times when he felt like that, he’d glare down at his soul mark.

That stupid mark that made all this complicated because there was someone out there for him and he knew it. However, no matter how loud he screamed (Internally), he couldn’t force his mind and heart to change. He couldn’t convince himself that what he felt for his two friends was something that was unrealistic.

Something that would cause unwanted trouble for him.

A soft groan broke through his train of thought and Stiles was sucked back from his darkened thoughts.

Worry filled whiskey eyes and apprehensive apple eyes fell on the werewolf on the bed.

Scott groaned louder and Stiles felt his heart thud against his palm. His dark brows twitched and his crooked jaw moved as Scott swallowed. His eyelids fluttered and Stiles and Lydia both leaned forward just as warm, chocolate brown eyes came into view.

Scott blinked sleepily, staring up at the ceiling and then his hand flexed in Lydia’s grip and his head fell to the side.

A tired, sweet smile stretched across his lips and a singular dimple appeared.

Stiles’ heart fluttered when Scott met his eyes, and then fear gripped him. He flashed back on everything he had said to Scott… he flashed back on everything Lydia had heard him say.

A plan was already forming in his head. A plan to play it cool and act like nothing happened. A plan to laugh and explain to Scott that he was fine and that he hoped things would be okay between them. A plan that involved him avoiding the shit out of both of them---

“Hi.” Scott’s croaky voice said.

Stiles gave him a nervous smile. He flickered his eyes to Lydia to see her grinning right back at Scott.

“Hey. Welcome back. How are you feeling?” She asked him lightly.

Stiles nodded inwardly. Okay, he can work with this.

“Tired. My body is in so much pain right now…” Scott answered her. “My throat is a littler raw.”

Stiles perked up at that. “Raw? I can get you some water. You want water? I can get it. Let me go get it—“ He was already up and ready to walk out of the room when a hand, strong and steady gripped his wrist.

His eyes snapped down and Stiles swallowed thickly. Hesitantly, he followed the arm until he met Scott’s own soft eyes.

Neither of them said anything and Stiles became aware of the way Lydia’s fingers tightened around his sweaty hand.

“What?” Stiles asked stupidly. “You want juice or something?”

“Stiles…” Scott sighed his name. He casted Lydia a glance before he returned his calming gaze to Stiles. “You know I heard you.”

Stiles looked away.

“I heard both of you.” Scott continued, each of his hand tightening their grip on Lydia’s and Stiles’ wrist. “And I just want to—Stiles, sit down- I just wanted to let you know that, I felt it. I felt you guys there with me and your words and your voices… it helped. I could, I could center myself.”

Unable to withstand, Stiles lifted his eyes and it met with a sweet, exhausted smile. Scott’s eyes were drooping with each blink, and his words were spoken slowly and breathlessly.

“I heard everything and I—“ Scott looked to Lydia. “My right sleeve… Lift it.”

Stiles’ heart shattered. Tears build up in his eyes but he forced himself to remain where he was. He blinked and looked over from the corner of his eye as Lydia’s hands creep to Scott’s sleeves. Slowly she lifted it up, the dark, cursive words revealed word for word the more she lifted it.

Stiles had seem the mark many a times.

He flashed back to Lydia’s words, words that at the time had not registered to him in the midst of Scott’s fearful muttered and his own anxiety.

_Not all monsters do monstrous things._

Fuck. How could he not have heard it and got the fuck out before he had opened his stupid mouth.

Stiles watched, with a dread filled heart as Lydia gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, tears sprang to her eyes and she shook her head.

“But,” She pulled her hand back, shaking her heads still as her green eyes feel on Stiles and then on Scott. “But I don’t understand. My… my mark it’s…”

She looked at Stiles once more, and this time he saw the confusion swimming in them.

“My mark is not,” she stood up shakily. Her hand slipped from both their holds and they reached for the hem of her shirt.

Stiles saw Scott lift himself up, a groan leaving his mouth and his hold on Stile’s wrist never loosened.

Smooth pale skin appeared and Stiles’ eyes were drawn to the werewolf bite that still marked her skin and just above the line of her jeans were three sentence that chilled Stiles to the bone.

_You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body._

He sat frozen in his seat, his eyes fixed upon the mark.

Lydia spoke. “I know the quote is from C.S Lewis and I--- I heard Stiles say these words.” She glanced at him them. “I felt the link. I felt that bond flicker within in when he spoke those words so I don’t know how you have my—“ She cut herself off, her eyes falling on Scott.

Silence fell over them. Thick and filled with tension.

Confusion, stress, fear, and worry coursed through Stiles. His heart was thundering against his chest, ringing in his ears. His mind was racing, trying to come up with everything he had ever read about Soul Mates which wasn’t much because nobody posted about their meeting stories, preferring it to be a private, sacred moment.

He, he couldn’t think of anything to say or a possible solution to—

A clearing of the throat broke the silence.

They all turned to see Deaton standing stoic by the door.

His professional demeanor only added irritation to Stiles’ cocktail of hay-wired emotions.

“If I may,” he said plainly. “There are many myths and legends about Soul Marks. One in particular states that although one soul seeks their counterpart, it’s only at a precise moment that they should discover it.” He ran his eyes over them.

“What the hell does that have to do this fucked up mess?” Stiles blurted.

Anger and heartache took control and he stood up, opening his mouth to give Deaton a piece of his mind. “That does not help us! We are sitting here, fucking confused out of our minds and all you have to offer is vague, patronizing riddles that we do not have the energy to even think through!” He glared at Scott’s boss. “Is this like some sort of joke to you? Are you that—“

A sharp tug at his wrist and a warm hand on his arm stopped him.

He looked at Lydia’s hand as she gently urged him back down onto his seat.

“Stiles,” Scott called to him, drawing his attention, pulling it away from Deaton who’s face remain calm and unaffected by Stiles outburst. “Hey, Stiles?”

Stiles turned to his best friend. He felt warm liquid run down his cheeks and he ignored them. Soft, kind, and fuck, _loving_ eyes stared back at him, breaking his heart even further.

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Scott said to him, nodding his head. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure this out like we do everything. And no matter what I know what I need to be fine with whatever this world throws at me.” He looked between Stiles and Lydia confidently. “I need you. Not just now, but forever.”

Heat broke out against his chest. Stiles inhaled sharply and he jerked up, pulling away from Scott and Lydia’s hold.

He reached for his shirt, tugging it back and peeking into it from the top, his eyes falling on those words. Those words that were currently burning, filling him with warmth and a peaceful, wonderful feeling of being… complete.

Those words kept playing over and over in his head.

_I need you. Not just now, but forever._

His feelings for Lydia and Scott seemed to solidify as the words took root deep into his heart, growing and growing.

Lydia and Scott…

It wasn’t a ‘them’…

“It’s us.” He whispered aloud, looking up with teary eyes. His lips parted once more, joy and wonder filling him, lighting up his entire body and soul. “It’s us. We’re it.”

Lydia and Scott looked at each other and then back at Stiles.

“Us?” Scott asked hopefully, his eyes glimmering.

Stiles nodded vigorously. He looked at Deaton, “we weren’t ready before. We are now.”

 

The vet nodded and then silently bowed out of the room leaving the shocked trio alone. The words and what it brought to their lives took it’s time to sink it. Stiles remained frozen in his spot, unable to conjure up proper words that would express the overwhelming feeling of euphoria he felt.

Ecstasy and pure bliss clouded his mind.

A hand stretched out for him and he took it. Lydia tugged him over and she turned to face Scott. Stiles pressed himself up against her side while simultaneously reaching for Scott’s hand. He took his best friend’s hand, feeling his skin burn at the contacted area and his heart jumped.

Scott gave them both a blinding smile as he took Lydia’s hand. He brought their hands up and pressed two soft kisses on each, before replaced it with his forehead, leaning down against their knuckles.

Lydia looked at him and smiled, tears of her own falling down her cheeks.

“It’s us.” She whispered softly.

 

 

                                            ***M.O.S***

 

“Stiles!” Scott screamed, shoving at him.

Stiles laughed. “Die! Die! Die!” He pressed down on the X- button on his controller.

He roared when he killed Scott in Moral Kombat. Jumping to his feet, he did a little happy dance before his boyfriend, all the while letting out a full belly-deep laugh. When he was done and gasping for breath through lingering chuckles, he saw Scott staring at him with a mocking glare.

“You cheated.” Scott said to him, dropping the control beside him on Stiles’ bed.

“Aww, sore loser?” Stiles asked in a mocking sad tone.

With a mischievous grin, he lurched for Scott, ducking down and beneath his arm as he tackled him back onto his bed. Scott laughed, his stomach bobbing against Stiles’ shoulder. Delight filled him and unable to help himself, he turned his head and bit down on Scott’s rib cage, receiving a loud, lightly high pitched laugh.

“Boys!” A reprimanding tone shouted.

Stiles and Scott paused. Stiles lifted himself up, remaining semi- on top of the werewolf as they both turned to the strawberry haired goddess sitting a few spaces away from them, a laptop on her lap.

Lydia raised her eyebrows at them, her rose pink lips pressed together and curled at the corners with her signature disapproving stare.

Stiles looked down and shared a smirk with Scott before they both scrambled over to her. Her eyes widened just as they pounced on her, Scott being mindful of her laptop which Stiles took out of the way.

They leaned over and each pressed a kiss against her cheek, Stiles moving down to suck gently on her neck.

“No, no, no.” She said, her voice a little breathless. “I have to work—“

Stiles pulled back just to see Scott leaning over and pressing a kiss against Lydia’s lips, cutting her off.

He smiled at them and Scott pulled away to sit back on the bed.

“You two cutting me off with kisses is not something I’m a big fan of.” She pressed her lips tighter together, trying to force away her growing smile.

They smiled a lot.

The others find it both cute and overly ‘sugar-sweet-sickness’, as Liam once put it. It took a month for them to tone down the blissfulness, something not even the supernatural doom could diminish.

They just smiled and smiled and smile.

They were happy.

They were at peace.

They were… in love.

“You’re smiling.” Stiles pointed out with a smug grin. “Isn’t she, Scottie?”

Scott came up slightly behind him. He rested his chin on Stiles shoulder as he too regarded Lydia. “I believe she is, Stiles.”

“Very mature.” Lydia rolled her eyes, reached up and grasp each of their chins between her fingers.

She leaned forward toward Stiles. He closed his eyes at the sweet, gently pressure of soft lips. A smile was left in its place as Lydia moved to kiss Scott. She leaned back, her eyes alight and shimmering in the sunlight creeping in through his bedroom window.

“Now, leave me alone.” She squeezed his chin and turned away from them, reaching for her laptop.

Scott sighed against his neck and Stiles nodded, both knowing how Lydia gets with school work. It was a miracle she was even up here with them but they hadn’t been seeing each other much out of school and Stiles and Scott would take anytime they got before the next shit storm came.

“I’m gonna go make dinner.” Stiles said. “Come down when you’re done, okay?” Lydia smiled at him and nodded.

Together Scott and Stiles shuffled off the bed and make their way out the room, down the stairs. Scott hopped on the kitchen counter and Stiles took out everything he needed. He handed Scott some potatoes to peel and took to boiling the chicken so long.

“Think we should tell her to take it easy?” Scott asked beside him.

Stiles shook his head. “Nah, let her get that stuff done and then she’ll have less to stress about.”

They worked in silence for a while before Scott asked. “You, uh, you think we can go over the chem?”

Stiles looked over to his boyfriend, taking in the blush tinted cheeks and the way Scott wasn’t meeting his eyes. He knew school was a touchy subject for Scott and that the werewolf sometimes hated having to come to Stiles and/or Lydia for help to catch up.

“Sure.” Stiles nodded, moving to come to stand before Scott.

His boyfriend looked down at him and Stiles, reaching out for the almost finished potato, took it and placed it down into the large red bowl where the other peeled ones were. He stepped between Scott’s parted legs, having to lean up slight and tip his head back before he could properly kiss him.

Scott’s lips were soft and Stiles latched onto his bottom lip. His favor part. He felt Scott’s warm hands cup his neck and he reached to grasp onto his shirt, holding onto him as they exchanged sweet, loving kisses, going from short pecks to full on kissing.

“Man, have I told you today how happy I am that we found each other?” Stiles asked as he pulled back, breathless.

Scott, with eyes still hooded, nodded and gave him a puppy grin. “I love you.”

A smile broke out between the two. Scott leaned forward for another kiss but stopped midway. Stiles, already used to this, turned along with Scott, watching as Lydia padded down the stairs. She looked over to them and smiled, her eyes happy but tired.

Stiles leaned back a bit as she drew closer, reaching for her hand which she took. He tugged her closer to them, pulling her up against his chest. He bracket her between them but shuffling them closer to Scott until there was barely any space between them at all.

“And I love you.” Scott said to her.

Stiles rested his chin against her shoulder and grinned at Scott. Lydia scoffed. “You two are such dorks.”

Scott wiggled his eyebrows, which had both Lydia and Stiles laughing at how weird it looked on him.

Their joined laughter ringed out throughout the Stilinski home, light and loving. Just outside the sheriff stepped out of his car, his own smile growing when he heard the laughter coming from within.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking prompts


End file.
